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I’d like to think of myself as politically active – that I care about the world around me, the impact my country is having on other countries and the social inequalities no rational person can deny exist.

And I’d like to think I do more than just care; I’d like to think I make a difference.

But this is easier said than done.

Throughout my college career I’ve tried different methods of making a difference.

At the beginning I coordinated a campaign to register new voters and get out the college vote for the UCLA chapter of the California Public Interest Research Group.

Like any leadership role in a politically motivated campus group, this not only took time but a lot of effort – and a high endurance for stress.

After spending hours in meetings without even knowing whether I’d persuade one politically apathetic person to vote, I decided there had to be a more efficient way to promote my political views. And then I came up with the answer: conscientious consumerism.

It sounded perfect. I could buy products from companies I supported, while eliminating those that had policies I didn’t agree with.

And all I had to do was live my life as usual with the slight extra effort of spending money on one thing as opposed to another.

So I started to make as many political purchases as possible – if I needed clothes, I went to American Apparel; if I wanted coffee, I bought Fair Trade; if I needed produce, I would buy locally grown vegetables and fruit at the Westwood Farmers’ Market, and if not that, I would definitely go for organic.

Unfortunately, my state of politically active bliss was short-lived. While my politically motivated choices may have made me feel politically active, in reality they weren’t all that active in achieving anything.

As The Economist dutifully pointed out, some of my well-intended choices may actually have caused more harm than good.

For example, while organic food production uses less fertilizers and is generally thought to be better for the environment, it uses three times as much land for the same yield. In other words, if all the world’s food were grown organically, there probably wouldn’t be any room for rain forests.

Furthermore, while buying locally grown produce is thought to reduce the amount of energy used to transport the food, a study of food transportation by the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs in Britain showed that half the transportation involved there was people driving to the supermarket and back again.

And most people live closer to a supermarket than they do to a farmers’ market. This might be a bit different in the U.S., but considering that California is its fruit basket, I don’t think my non-exotic fruit travels that far.

Besides which, buying locally grown produce is at complete odds with the goals of fair trade, which are to bring wealth to poor farmers in developing countries by buying their products.

Fair trade is a system that charges a little more for products, then sends a subsidy back to the farmer who produced it. That all sounds fine, except that the reason agricultural products are priced so low is because they are overproduced. By offering extra money to farmers for producing the same sorts of products, except maybe under slightly better conditions, fair trade is discouraging farmers from diversifying and thus further depresses prices.

But this doesn’t extend to everything. One choice I will continue is that of American Apparel. Yes, maybe their ads are reminiscent of the trashy Calvin Klein ads of the 1990s, but the list of benefits their employees receive is impressive – they offer bikes to borrow and free on-site bike maintenance.

Even if buying clothes from them doesn’t obliterate sweatshops, the success of American Apparel as a business goes to show how much people care, and how an ad campaign based as much on politics as on sexual images can influence people’s buying choices.

And what customers think can change certain things. As an article in The New York Times detailed, clothing companies in England are becoming more and more concerned about creating a sustainable clothing market because their customers care.

Maybe it’s hit and miss, but by the end of the day, my choices all level out to not making much of a difference. Even if the person making my shirt gets health care and $13 an hour, I’m still using resources and energy.

Fortunately, my passion for making a difference hasn’t abated. Maybe all those meetings that seemed to get nowhere – but may have gotten that one extra person to vote – were the most beneficial thing I’ve done. And maybe twisting my brain around the nightmare that is politics is the best, if slow, way to create change.

E-mail Loewenstein at lloewenstein@media.ucla.edu. Send general comments to viewpoint@media.ucla.edu.